What Happens In Hell
by DemonLuver666
Summary: The golden rule in life: Don't fall for a Whinchester. Ever. 28 year old Hazel Dythe finds herself in an sticky situation when she falls for both. The man she loves, Dean, is sent to Hell so what happens when she finds more than just a friend in Sam?
1. Chapter 1

What Happens in Hell

"If he's dead, I swear, I won't sleep or eat or stop until you're gone. I will find the worst way possible to kill you if you tell me he's in . . ." Hazel looked at the demon who took her greatest love away. She couldn't finish the statement as she looked into her wicked eyes. She knew what the answer was, but for some reason she couldn't let herself believe it.

"I don't have to tell you what you already know." The Crossroads demon stared at her with arms crossed. The longer the demon stared the more Hazel's rage grew.

He was gone. She was too late. He was in Hell now, replacing his brother with himself. She had driven all the way across the country a year ago to stop him, but he had made the deal. The year had passed too quickly. She only wished that she could have been there to tell him goodbye.

The demon walked toward her slowly, "Look, as much as you don't want to believe it, it's better this way. At least you didn't have to watch him die. There was nothing you could have done to save him, there was nothing anyone could have." She looked up at the twisted woman who let him make the deal.

She stepped away from her. "Don't try to comfort me. I loved him. And I never got to tell him because of _you_."

With everything that was going on the demon still had the nerve to laugh. Hazel shook with anger at the sound. "That's not exactly _my _fault now is it? You had your chance, a whole _year_ before he had to go. Your being a chicken isn't my doing."

She swung her fist into the demon's face with all of her emotions going into the hit. The demon stumbled back with the hit but didn't react. "Listen to me you son of a bitch. I am not a chicken. And if you ever think otherwise I will personally rip your guts out with my bare hands. That hit? It was only _half_ the pain you're going to endure when I come after you again. And weather you like it or not, I'll find a way to get him out." Tears stung her eyes as they slid down her cheeks. They only made her more chilled with the brisk night air.

The demon only laughed as Hazel walked back to her car. She got in and turned the key in the ignition. Her foot slammed the gas pedal harder than she intended and she drove. She didn't know where she was going just yet. She didn't know why. But at that moment, she couldn't care less. She glanced in the rearview mirror at the monster she left standing. Smiling in the road. She kept her eyes on the road and her mind on murder as she drove to a destination unknown.

Chapter One

She awoke with a startle from the dream she had been having for the past five months. _The five months without Dean._ She looked around the small motel room trying to get her mind to focus. Her thoughts were clouded with the image of him whispering promises to her and all too soon being ripped from her grasp. From her life. She shivered at the thought and shook it from her mind.

Getting out of bed hurt like it had every morning. Emotionally, and physically. She stretched her arms above her head as she walked to the bathroom. She rubbed her eyes one at a time as she shuffled her feet across the shaggy carpet. Flipping the light on she saw her reflection in the mirror. _Bed head. Bed head and my mind stuck on the one thing I wish it wasn't. Dean. _

She turned on the tap and plugged the sink. She let the sink fill with ice cold water before dunking her head in and holding it there. It helped to clear her mind, the cold water. It was like an alarm clock blaring in your ear at 3:30 in the morning. Something you can't ignore. Something to get you up and focused. She blinked her eyes as she counted down from thirty.

_30_

_29_

_28_

_27_

_26_

_25_

_24 . . ._

As she counted down she felt her mind become more and more alert. She forced herself to focus on the hunt she was on. Wendigo. Or at least that's what she suspected. She and her new partner of course. Well, new wasn't exactly as it should be described. She had been working with him for years, years before Dean had gone. However, it was only recently that it was only him and her working. Without his brother, it grew silent often, and she couldn't help but cry sometimes.

As she counted down she felt a large hand gently pull her out of the water by her back of her tank top. She picked her head up gasping for air to see a smiling Sam Winchester standing beside her. "Trying to drown yourself again HD?" She grabbed a towel and wiped at her wet face.

She smiled at the name he hadn't used for months. HD was a name that only he called her. It stood for Hazel Dythe. "Well it's better than living without my heart." Only Sam knew that she'd loved his brother. It was something she kept to herself.

He looked down sad and mumbled almost inaudibly, "I'm sorry that I'm putting you through this." He had said this all the time after Dean died. He blamed himself for his brother's death.

Hazel smiled up at him and lifted his chin gently. With how tall he was it was awkward to make him look up. "Stop beating yourself up Sammy. He was just looking after you. You were dead, he didn't have much a brain to stop himself." He grinned only a little at her attempted humor.

They were silent for a few moments as it had gotten to be so often in the past. Breaking the silence finally, he said, "I brought coffee. Thought you might need the caffeine. We still gonna leave early?" It was like that almost every day. He woke up, got breakfast, brought it to her, they left, and they hunted. After that routine, it changed everyday. Some days they would go to a bar to let go of some stress, others they would go straight back to the motel they were currently staying at and go to sleep. Then there were those few nights when they did the thing she hated most.

He did it for her, she knew that. Those few nights they would go to Dean's grave and he would leave her alone to reminisce in the memories that flooded her mind. Tears stained the grass that surrounded his grave. Her tears. She hated those nights, but knew that she needed them. _To remember that he was here. Remember that there's still a body left for him to come back to if I can find a way._

"Earth to Hazel." Sam mumbled waving a hand in front of her face.

Blinking away the tears that had formed in her eyes, she slapped his hand away and focused again on the hunt. "Yeah. We'll leave just as soon as I get dressed. Get out now, I don't think you need to see anything under what I'm wearing now." She shooed him out of the door still fighting tears.

She shut the door behind him and leaned against it. Memories flooded her mind. Memories that had haunted her since the night she saw the Crossroads demon. Memories of him. Him alive. The thought of him dying. His body. Bloody. The image of him in Hell. Everything about him came to her like a tidal wave. It was more than she could handle. She crashed to the ground crying unwillingly. She couldn't control herself, just the thought of him where she was just a few years ago killed her. She reached to the back of her neck where the imprint of an angels hand laid. _That could happen for him. He could be saved._ Although, no matter how many times she thought it, it killed her nonetheless.

He was dead. She just had to remember that and live with it. She pushed the memory out of her mind and got up off the floor. She walked to her duffel bag that lay next to the stiff bed. Trying to keep her mind focused, she pulled out a pair of jeans, a faded blue ACDC T-shirt and her favorite leather jacket. _His leather jacket. _That was what she kept to remember him. Sam kept the necklace he had given him, she kept his jacket.

She looked at the jacket remembering how he looked in it. How powerful it was on him. She placed it back in her duffel bag and pulled out her own leather jacket. It was sleeker, skinner, black. While he chose a sort of faded olive green, she stuck with her favorite color, black. She put it on over the T-shirt and jeans and threw on her best pair of combat boots. She picked up her duffel bag and walked to the door.

When she opened it Sam stood waiting. "You know, it sucks just as much for me as it does for you. Don't beat yourself up though. Us Winchesters don't stay dead for long." He smiled a warm smile that comforted him. Although he wasn't Dean, Sam was still a great guy. And her only friend. Her sister Trina passed away three years ago on a hunt.

Instinctively, she pressed her hand to the two necklaces she wore around her neck. One was a moon with a star dangling from the tip while the other was a bright sun. Along one of the chains, the moon, ran her name. Hazel Christine Dythe. Along the other, the sun, ran her sister's name. Trina Kyra Dythe. She kept them both after she died. She missed her more than she missed Dean, but after she came back as a spirit and assured her that she would be alright in heaven, Hazel was alright. She knew Trina was there in heart and she always would be.

She hugged Sam tightly with tears still in her eyes. "Thanks for being the only one I could turn to, Sam. You don't know how much that means to me," and she meant it. He was the only person who stayed in her life after her sister and Dean died. She needed him, and he was there.

He hugged back and for that moment, she felt safe. Sam had a way of doing that, making your problems go away with just a hug or a smile. She liked that about him.

She pulled away and wiped her eyes. "You ready Gigantor?" It was her nickname for him. Sam was a tall man.

"When you are HD." He smiled that smile that made her troubles melt. And they were on their way to her car. They didn't keep Dean's just in case he did come back like she did. It was right there waiting for him. _Just like I am._


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

_The pain._ That was the first thought Dean Winchester always thought when he first awoke each day. There was nothing else to think of. _The pain._ It was his only concern. He couldn't open his eyes _don't want to_ he knew what was waiting for him if he did. It had only been five months that he had been in Hell, he knew that, but to him it felt like five years. He chose this, he made this decision, _and it was the worst mistake in my life._

He heard the footsteps approaching. The footsteps he heard each day. He listened as screams filled the cloud of hate around him. He knew that it was only so long until those screams were his. He never opened his eyes, he never needed to. He knew what was striking him, he saw the images in his mind no matter what. That's what Hell does. You go through torture, torture by whoever may come by and decide to strike at you. Then you get images, horrible things that you would never see in even your worst nightmares. Then comes the few seconds you get of what you may want to call sleep. Then it starts again.

The footsteps came closer with every set of screams. Just a few people away from him now.

_Three people until it's my turn._

_ Two people until I get what I signed myself up for._

_ One person until it's me getting beat._

The footsteps stopped at him. "It's your choice Winchester. I've asked you this for one thousand twenty-five days. Each time you refuse, as you know, the punishment grows worse. Will this be the day you decide to let the pain stop?"

He was asked this every day. He could endure the pain that was given to him by only one person, or he could deliver the pain to others. It seemed like such a small price to pay to be let off the Rack. It seemed like the greatest trade-off, but everything comes with a price. No matter who he saw, what they did to end up there, Dean had to torture them. He wouldn't do that. It wasn't fair. "Just give me my daily serving of Hell you son of a bitch. Let's get it done and over with."

All of a sudden there was nothing but pain. Pain everywhere. He felt himself scream but couldn't hear anything past the frantic pulsing of his veins that now served no purpose. The pain lasted for what felt like hours. It switched every few minutes. At first the pain could be ice cold like a blizzard brewing within his body. The next, it would be fire. The hottest fire you could imagine coursing through his entire body and striking at any part that seemed weak. Then could be spikes. Spikes that stabbed the most sensitive, fragile, vulnerable, parts of your body. This was Hell. _This is what I put myself through for Sammy. This is what I put myself through to bring him back. And now he'd better be living a happy life or so help me God when I get out of here . . ._

His thoughts soon ended as they always did. He didn't have a chance to think when there was nothing to feel but pain. Then it ended. As soon as it had arrived it was gone. It was replaced by horrible images. Memories.

_ He ran. As fast as he could, he ran to him. To where he stood. He shouted his name as he looked __at him standing bloody and hurt. There was the bastard that stabbed him, running away like a coward. He couldn't stay to take accountability for his actions. He had to run off and leave Sam dying. He ran to his dying brother, ran to him fast. But not enough. Sam fell into his arms not clear on what was happening. He didn't know that he was stabbed. He didn't know that he was dying. He just died. Unexpected and all too soon._

He opened his eyes weakly looking down at the floor. In his seeing range he saw his body. His arms were stretched onto either side of his head and his legs were just the same. He was in the outfit he died in, only his jacket was removed. He closed his eyes again awaiting the next round of torture. This next pain was more than he could handle. He burst into tears uncontrollably crying out for his brother first. After his brother, he cried for a hunter who worked with them often, Hazel. After that he cried for his dad and soon following, his mom. It was something he did even though he knew he would receive no reply. It was something everyone and everything did when sent to this demonic pit called Hell.

There was one thing he kept in mind, though, when being tortured like this. He kept in mind that no matter what, Sammy was up in the world alive. He was up in the wold fighting for him and protecting the one thing he loved. His car.

But as much as Dean hated to admit it, there was one other thing he loved. Her name was Hazel. Hazel Dythe. And she was up there waiting and fighting for him too. Even if she didn't know the feelings that existed in his heart. She was waiting. _And I won't stop fighting until I'm up there. So you keep fighting with me._


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

She kept her eyes on the road as she and Sam drove in silence. The only noise in the car was the low radio playing "Far From Home" by Five Finger Death Punch and the quite noises the car made as it drove down the freeway. Sam sat staring silently out of the window most-likely as deep in thought as she was herself. _I wonder if he can think where he is. I wonder if he thinks of me._ She knew it was a long shot, but who knew, maybe he did have something for her.

Suddenly breaking the awkward silence and making her jump, Sam said, "So, you got the hairspray and lighters?" She laughed a little. That was how you killed a Wendigo, fire. Unfortunately, however, neither Sam nor her owned anything close to a flamethrower, so they packed up five cans of hairspray and three lighters.

"Yeah Sam, I got 'em." The silence lingered for a moment after until she couldn't stand it. "Sam," she said slightly too loud.

"Hmm?"

"Sam, do you ever wonder what he's thinking about down there? Do you ever wonder if when we get him back he's going to regret going down there? Or worse, do you think he'll regret us bringing him back?" They were questions she had asked so often. They were questions she asked herself when she wasn't with him.

"Hazel," Sam said with a sigh. She knew what was coming, she always did. She just refused to believe it. "He's not coming back." Although he said it strong, she still saw the tears that tempted his eyes. "He made his choice. He decided his own fate. There's nothing we can do about it. It's been half of a year, he's not coming back."

Subconsciously, she reached to the back of her neck where a hand print lay. She hadn't told him about her trip many years back to the same place Dean lay now. She didn't think he would accept her as he did now. She needed Sam, she needed him so she could forget about Dean. She didn't respond to his doubts. She never did. That was how the conversations went. First she would ask a question. He would tell her an answer she didn't want to hear. That answer would remind her of one of the many secrets she was keeping from him, and she couldn't tell him so she never responded.

He looked at her with sympathetic eyes. She ignored him and listened to the slow rhythm of the music. _All the places I've been and things I've seen. A million stories that made up, a million shattered dreams._ The words sank in and she couldn't help but think of this song being the number one song on the play list of her life.

In a small attempt at comfort he placed a hand on her shoulder. She let him. She needed the comfort even if it didn't sink through her like she needed it to. "Hazel, look. I'm sure that he's still being strong. I know him, and you do too. So you should know that above all, he's going to let his sarcastic attitude come out before his feelings. Don't worry about him." Even as he said it she could read the despondence on his face.

She pulled the car over and hugged him. Although he was slightly stunned she didn't pull away. After some time, he hugged back. He placed a hand on her back and patted it comfortingly. She bit back tears at the image of him being his brother instead. As a tear rolled down her cheek she pulled away sniffling. "Thanks." She said quietly refusing to let anymore tears escape past her water line.

"For what?" He asked with a brief smile.

"For being there for me. For trying to comfort me when I'm on the verge of tears. For keeping by my side when no one else can. For . . . everything. Thanks." She smiled at him despite the tears that still begged for exit from her eyes. He smiled back but didn't say anything. She saw his lip quiver ever so slightly and looked down away from him. She let another tear escape feeling it slip past her cheekbone. He wiped the tear away with his thumb and tilted her head up with his finger.

"Don't cry. If you do, I'm going to want to. I know it's hard to let him go, to forget about him, but you have to. And if you can't, you have to at least stay strong." He was smiling a comforting smile even though a tear rolled down his cheek too.

As she looked up into his eyes she realized she hadn't really seen him cry before. She smiled and wiped his tear as he had hers. She smiled at him trying to be as comforting and strong as he was. "I won't cry if you won't." He laughed a little and looked away.

"Eh, I don't think I have much to cry over. My brother was a douche bag. You could have done way better you know?" She laughed and nodded wiping away her tears and trying to clear her sinuses.

She turned back to the road and started the car again. As she began to drive she resisted the urge to call the one person who may be able to help Dean. She knew he wouldn't want that. So instead, she turned up the music as "Highway to Hell" began to blare through the speakers.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Hazel and Sam arrived at the scene of the crime mid-afternoon. The disappearances were happening in a dense forest just along the border of Washington. She hated this state most of the fifty to chose from. Not only was she wanted in several cities, but also her hair did not cooperate well with rain.

She loaded her duffel containing the hairspray and lighters onto her shoulder as Sam picked out the appropriate fake ID cards for their mission. They were planning on this hunt being a quick kill and kick it hunt to continue on ways to rescue Dean. _Ways for _me_ to rescue Dean. Sam is a faithless jerk who doesn't believe in man-made resurrection._ She didn't mean to be so harsh on Sam, but he was Dean's brother and he wasn't lifting a finger to help him.

Sam came around to the trunk of the car just as she was slamming it shut. He held out a Wildlife Services card to her and pocketing his own. She took the card with a curt nod and looked up at him squinting against the sunlight shining just behind him. "Ready to break the law to save the lives of those unworthy?"

He laughed a little and smiled down at her. "You know, you can be really emo sometimes, HD." He said it with laughter in a joking matter even though she knew it was true.

She didn't dare say what she was thinking knowing it would only create yet another awkward silence between them. _I've only been that way since I lost all reason for happiness._ Instead she said, "Well, it is my middle name. Now seriously, what's our plan of attack? We going to grow a fake relationship with this family then kill the bitch and leave? Or are we going to go find the bitch, light the bitch on fire, never talk to the family at all, and bounce our happy little asses out of this bitch town?"

He said nothing for a moment looking off smiling. "I'm getting a sense you like the word 'bitch'."

She laughed a little and replied, "What was your first clue?" They began walking to the forests main building carrying the duffel like a backpack. When they stepped into the office, the ranger looked up at them and smiled a gangly thing that wasn't too appealing.

"How can I help you two today? Need information about camping? Hiking? A romantic getaway in the woods?" Hazel choked slightly at the last one and Sam held back laughter.

"I'm Anthony Wang and this is Rebecca Hilton with the wildlife services. We're here to assure that the path rails haven't worn away too much with the rain storms lately." He smiled a convincing smile as Hazel stood silently behind him smiling as well.

The ranger stood sizing them up with his eyes before finally extending his hand and shaking each of their hands promptly and saying, "Buck Willington. I'm the head ranger here at the Lake Forest Park office. Pleased to meet you. Well, if you guys are part of the wildlife service, I'm sure you already know your way around. Just be careful of those bears, they've been pretty rambunctious lately." He made a slight whistling sound as he said his S's.

Hazel stepped forward and spoke with authority and dominance. "Thank you for your time Buck, but let me tell you, I don't think bears are the problem here. We're hoping to get some information on that too, so I guess we'll see the real cause of the mayhem here." With that she walked out of the back door knowing Sam would follow.

"He didn't even ask for ID. Weird." He kept pace with her easily as the strode down into the forest. She kept silent as they walked getting deeper and deeper into the dense trees. The forest reminded her of the nights when she knelt before Dean's grave all but digging him out with her bare hands. At times, when they went, she would cry so hard that she would collapse, forcing Sam to carry her home. She just hoped that tonight was not one of those nights.

As though reading her thoughts, Sam looked at her and said, "I think we should go to Dean's grave tonight. It's been a month, I know that you like to pray for him in front of it. Who knows, maybe that will help." She couldn't respond. She didn't want to lie to him. She didn't just pray when she sat at his grave. She asked the one person she knew could help. She asked them to help him, do for him what they did to her. They hadn't yet but she couldn't give up hope. She needed to believe that they would help, she needed to have hope that she could get him back some how. If she didn't, she knew she never would.

These were her thoughts as they ventured deep into the forest toward the point of many disappearances. She only helped she could save these people quicker than she could save Dean.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

He finally got the chance to sleep. After so many years, he finally got the chance to drift into a world that was not the worthless hell hole that he was now forced to live in. He knew that the dreams awaiting him were nothing at all to be happy about, but he couldn't help but wait for them. He needed a time where he was in control, at least for the most part. He felt himself slowly drift into a state of nothing as the hell around him slipped away from his eyes. He found himself in a world he longed to be in at the time.

They were both smiling. Staring at each other with Sam following close behind. There was nothing they had to do at that moment, no monsters they had to kill. Only time with her and his brother they didn't have to run around and save the world. All that they had to do was drive and never stop, keep moving until they felt like stopping. Finally, for once, Dean was in control of his life and he was with the only two people he every needed to see. Hazel and Sam. They continued driving like that, silent, smiling, sharing a secret joke that only they could hear. It was perfect. Perfection until the sound came. A low whistling. He knew that it would be coming, even though he though he had the power to change it. He tried everything, thinking it, shouting it, begging for it, but she only looked at him with confusion. The sound came closer, although, since when did it have a sound. Soon she began to scream. She threw her head back and allowed the black smoke to fill into her body, not being able to stop it. He slammed on the brakes, reached for her, pleaded for it to stop, but it wouldn't and he knew that. Soon, he saw Sam at the side of the car with eyes as black as Hazel's. Then one-by-one more began to come. All with piercing black eyes that wrenched his soul from his body with one glance. He couldn't stop it so he allowed them to grab at him. He took the fists in various placed and the knives at his heart and sides. He let the sounds of gunshot fill his ears until there was nothing left to hear. Nothing left to do but look back at her and die.

He awoke as he normally did, gasping and grabbing at any and all air he could possibly force into his lungs. He wanted to clutch his sides and chest still feeling the pain of the knives and guns but only found himself restricted by chains holding his arms in place. He looked down still breathing heavily and allowed one tear to fall from his eyes and splatter into the darkness below him. He ignored the voice at his side knowing it was only fantasy, "Dean, why did you leave me. Think of all that we could have been together. And you left me to cry, you left me with the pain of losing you, now I have nothing." The voice was hers. He had heard it often when he was hanging like this awaiting the next torture. She was merely an image caused by the insanity forced within the inhabitants of this cruel world in which he now resided. He knew that next would be his brother calling him worthless and nothing but a selfish monster. But for now, it was her, it was she that was spiting for him for all that he had done.

Soon the voice had stopped leaving him in momentary silence. He sat and listened for what was slowly following. In the moment of silence he let yet another tear fall into the endless nothing that was all he had to look at. "You're a pig. You couldn't just listen for once and let me be the one to take the bullet. You say that you're looking after me, you say that you only want your 'little brother' to be safe, but I'm not. I'm up there right now. I'm trying to find a way to help you and you're sitting here not even thinking about it. I'm going through hell, thinking of voodo, praying to God, and doing anything I can to get your sorry ass out of here. Do you even care? Do you even care about me or any one else you just ditched to die up there? You're a monster, and nothing but it. You're selfish and you deserve to be in here, you deserve to be dying and swimming in your lies and filth." Dean couldn't take it anymore. He shouted out for the one that caused his everyday pain. The one that gave him the offer. For once, he was almost ready to take it. He heard the footsteps approaching slowly and looked up for the first time in what felt like days. He looked up into the cruel one's eyes and anticipated the question he was urging forward.

"You ready to stop the pain Dean? Are you finally ready to come down from the Rack and take my place, no pain, no suffering, just the joy of torturing others." He looked back down debating the choice once again in his head. Never had he ever been this close to saying yes, but yet right here and now he felt the word slithering onto his tongue. He looked up once more and prepared to answer what he knew he might regret. But even if it was a regretful option, he knew he was doing it for the best.


End file.
